Sitting in the plushy red seats surrounded by the middle-aged burghers of Bromley, I experienced qualms. A tribute band, on a Sunday night, in Kent. Had I dragged my friends to what was actually going to be a bit of a cringefest?
Then the curtains opened and the lights went up and they played all of The Wall, straight through, in an hour and a quarter.
Ah, The Wall, The Wall, many-time saviour of my sanity - listening to it is just as effective as actually killing yourself, with the advantage that you can do it again and again!
No Scarfe puppetry but an adorable blond laddie in school uniform representing Little Pink, some stage school classmates to kick him around and a teacher, wife and mother for the trial. Teacher's mike wasn't working but his arm gestures made up for it. "They sent us along as a tribute band" announced the group during In The Flesh, rather than 'surrogate band', to riotous applause.
Pure joy. G&T time.
The band had a lot more energy after the interval and tore through the shorter second set. I was in the happy position of not, for once, sitting on the edge of my seat going 'Oh, please do [song x]', since I had just heard my whole favourite album. But it was a bonus to get Wish You Were Here, Take It Back and Sheep.
Never having seen the genuine Floyd it's hard to make a comparison, though I can't help feeling there could have been more of a light show. Still, there's only so much you can do with the Churchill Theatre's disco ball.